Poor Decisions
by iviscrit
Summary: Kuvira decides to party it up once she's named captain of the guard. Drunken shenanigans ensue. Baavira.


Baatar paused before he knocked on the door, a bottle of dragonberry wine in his hand. He could already hear the sounds of revelry from Kuvira's apartment, and he groaned inwardly as he imagined what he would find once he walked inside. Resigning himself to the worst, he knocked firmly. The door opened in an instant, and he beheld a very tipsy Kuvira sooner than he'd expected. The night already felt like a poor decision.

"Congratulations," he said, forcing a smile. "Captain of the guard at twenty-one, you must be ecstatic-"

"Where _were_ you?" she demanded, seizing his arm and pulling him inside, kicking the door shut behind him. "I'be been waiting for _hours_, Baatar," she said, cheeks flushed and eyes bright. "You said you'd never keep me waiting."

"You also said you'd never get plastered," he reminded her gently, glancing around at the festivities with distaste. Her colleagues were in various stages of intoxication, and a few of the men were going shot for shot at the kitchen table.

"I'm not plastered," she said in disgust, taking another sip of wine. "I'm slightly buzzed. I'm perfectly fine-"

"Sit down," Baatar said, forcing her onto the sofa. "Where's Zhu?" He glanced around, looking for the young guard she had been dating for the past few months. Kuvira had always had admirers, but seeing her actually grant her time to one of them had stung more than he'd expected. Suddenly, he had no desire to wander her patrol routes with her at night anymore.

"Somewhere," she said vaguely. "I don't know, probably trying to one up the boys with a round of shot pai sho... Baatar, why haven't you visited me lately?"

He stared; it was as though she read his mind. "Oh, you're asking me this now? You- give me that," he snapped, yanking her glass from her hand and draining it in a gulp despite her protestations. "You've been busy, and I've been busy, that's why."

Kuvira scoffed at his answer. "It's a short walk away. Why don't you visit me on patrol anymore?"

"Well..." Baatar glanced over at the table, where Zhu Quang was embroiled in a game of pai sho, in which the lost pieces bled liquor and the game grew increasingly sloppy with every move. "You have someone _else_ to visit you on patrol, Kuvira."

She dragged him to his feet, her mind clearly elsewhere. "Come on, dance with me."

"I don't really think-"

"_Now_," she insisted, turning up the music with a sharp twist of her wrist despite her state of inebriation. The music was fast, the beat a pounding bass, and as she danced facing him Baatar felt his face heating. It wasn't from the exertion.

"Maybe you should sit down," he told her, raising his voice to be heard over the music. Other members of the guard were dancing with them, and as someone thrust a bottle of liquid courage into his hand, he found himself loosening up and matching her movements, her body pressed against his and then tantalizingly close in time to the song. Kuvira always had had a knack for making slow, slinky moves seem more graceful than vulgar, but now she danced as if she meant to draw his eyes. Perhaps it was the alcohol distorting his vision, or perhaps it was the alcohol in her system that brought on the change in behavior. A combination was the most likely, but Baatar didn't care as her hips moved in time to the sharp staccato beat and the strap of her shirt slipped from her shoulder as her movements became increasingly exaggerated, liquor and bass pulsing through her body.

He wasn't sure how it happened, but at some point he was in her favorite armchair, Kuvira atop his lap, and after a few whispered meaningless exchanges she was kissing him, her mouth tasting of dragonberry wine and imported fireball. A lucid corner of his mind simultaneously celebrated and screamed at him to push her away, to stop her from ruining her own perfectly happy relationship, and from starting something that would doubtless land them both in hot water with Su. The newly drunk majority of his brain didn't care, and he savored the taste of the party with every kiss.

The party was still raging around them, the floor thick with people and the music matching the pace of her hands and mouth. Zhu was passed out, having lost even in his victory over his pai sho opponent, and Baatar glanced back at Kuvira feeling decidedly guilty.

"What took you so long?" she demanded, suddenly breaking away. "Why did I have to wait for months for this?"

"Months?" he said, her words sobering him up faster than thoughts of his parents' disapproval. "I waited _years_\- and besides, you have Zhu-"

"I don't want Zhu," she said. "He's nice, but we ended things after I became captain... he's too hyper-competitive for me.. he was jealous that he wasn't picked to lead."

"And I'm not?"

"You're perfect," she said, leaning in to kiss him again. Baatar turned his face away and Kuvira pouted, seizing his chin in her hand and turning his head back. "You're perfect, you've always been perfect-" She closed the gap between them, her breath hot and her kisses insistent. Baatar found it hard to reign himself in as her hands raked through his hair and toyed with the collar of his shirt, awash in her scent and drunk on her proximity, even as his buzz faded away.

"Stop it, Kuvira," he said. "You're completely out of it, you won't even remember this-"

"I don't care," she announced, her words slurred. "Why aren't we friends anymore, Baatar? You avoid me now.."

"Friends don't kiss," he said gently, moving her hands from their place behind his neck. "So if you want to be friends again, we should stop."

"Fine," she said petulantly. "Fine, I'll just.." Her attempt to stand fell flat, and Baatar caught her before she hit the ground.

"You're going to bed," he muttered, half-carrying, half-dragging her to her room despite her protestations. "Party's over, everyone."

o0o

"Baatar?"

Baatar turned at the sound of her voice, seeing Kuvira standing in the doorway. She was immaculate as ever, wearing her new helmet signifying her rank as captain, but her face betrayed her discomfort and he wondered how much she remembered of her actions the night before. "Yes?"

She hesitated a moment longer before entering his lab. "May I sit?"

He gestured to a chair. "Go ahead."

She sat, taking off her helmet and giving a little sigh. "Apparently, I took that line I draw for myself and danced right over it."

Baatar nodded. "You think?"

Kuvira looked at her hands, cheeks reddening. "Thanks for putting me to bed."

"It was nothing," he said as he forced the memory of her tugging him down, and his reluctant extrication from her grip, out of his mind.

"Zhu said I made out with someone," she said regretfully. "Ugh, I'm such an _idiot_... no one will take my authority seriously now..what will Su say?"

Baatar's eyebrows shot up. "You don't remember any of it?"

Kuvira winced. "You saw? Baatar, please tell me it wasn't that bad.. I value your good opinion more than anyone else's. If you know who it was, tell me now, don't let me find out from someone else."

Baatar took a sip of tea only to set it down, suddenly choking. In an instant Kuvira's hands were at his back and shoulder, her brow knitted with concern and her small fist pounding between his shoulderblades. "Thanks," he gasped. "Um... yeah, I saw.. it wasn't that bad, he was a gentleman about it."

"_Who_?" she practically begged. "It wasn't Hung, was it? I'll never live it down.."

He winced. "No, it was someone in this room..."

Kuvira's jaw dropped. "Spirits, I'm so sorry. Baatar, I didn't mean to, please believe me-"

"Kuvira, it's fine." Baatar managed to look at her despite the flush that he could feel coloring his cheeks. "You were drunk, it doesn't matter. And Mom's had her share of fun when she was our age, she probably won't care that much."

"It does," she said, her voice very tiny. "You're the last person I'd want to make out with like that-"

Baatar frowned. "Rude, you seemed to enjoy it.."

She stared, her eyes widening. "What?"

A sudden recklessness came over him, and the words left him unchecked. "Kuvira, are your drunk words sober thoughts? Because if they're not, we can pretend it all never happened. If they are, though..." He smiled at her. "Well, I'd be lying if I said I hadn't been waiting about six years for that."

Kuvira stood, crossing her arms over her chest even as a smile bloomed over her face. "If we're going to date, it has to be a picture of decorum."

He stopped listening after the word 'date,' a goofy grin on his lips and his mind suddenly blank. "Sure, that's fine-"

"And we'll be very discreet, at least for a few weeks," she continued, half to herself. "And you can't kiss me, not until I've made up for this and my dignity has had a chance to heal."

"Fine," Baatar said, delight and impatience already threatening to choke him as they rose in his chest.

"My shift ends early today," Kuvira said. "Pick me up at the base and take me out to tea. That's appropriate, right?" she added anxiously. "Ladylike?"

"You're perfect," he said, standing to hug her goodbye. "It sounds perfect. I promise I won't keep you waiting."

"Even if you do, I'll drink nothing but water," she muttered to herself. "I'm never making that mistake again... Goodbye, Baatar. I'm looking forward to this."

"Bye Kuvira." He sank back into his chair in a happy daze as she gave him a final smile before leaving, jolted from his reverie only when his father entered, asking where the dragonberry wine had gone. The only explanation he could think of giving was that taking it had been a poor decision, with an unexpectedly good outcome.

* * *

**A/N: And that, kids, is how I met your mother. :P **


End file.
